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Party sponsored by Lamborghini tried to airlift yacht into Austin lake for F1 race

This was the kind of understatement we didn't expect to encounter in the Lone Star State: on our way into Austin to attend the Grand Prix of the Americas, the man sitting next to us on the plane - an Austinite born and raised - said, "There's gonna be a lot of wealthy people here." You know, as if Texas didn't have its fair share already.
Wealthy people need wealthy things to do and not-as-wealthy people to arrange such things for them. Case in point is My Yacht Club, which follows the Formula 1 parade and other rah-rah events around the globe, hosting guests and parties on yachts. In Austin the event group has had to change its schtick; there's no way to navigate one 150-foot motor yacht into Austin's Lady Bird Lake. MYC principal Nicholas Frankl told KUT News, "We spoke to the Army Air Corps. They couldn't lift it." We believe he meant the Army Corps of Engineers, but no matter, they couldn't lift it either.
So MYC has switched to a land-lubbers venue, The Long Center where Ballet Austin, the opera and the symphony perform. In case you readers are worried about how guests will manage without chiseled Italian deckhands in epaulets, not only has Frankl promised that "the elements of decadence and luxury and coolness and exclusivity are all there," guests will get to guzzle 24-karat gold-infused champagne. Because the stars at night just aren't as big and bright without it, obviously.

Ferdinand Piech (1937-2019): The man who made VW global

Towering among his peers, a giant of the auto industry died Sunday night in Rosenheim/Upper Bavaria, Germany. Ferdinand Piech, a grandson of Ferdinand Porsche, who conceived the original Volkswagen in the 1930s, was the most polarizing automotive executive of our times. And one who brought automotive technology further than anyone else. Ferdinand Porsche had a son, Ferdinand (called "Ferry"), and a daughter, Louise, who married the Viennese lawyer Anton Piech. They gave birth to Ferdinand Piech, and his proximity to two Alfa Romeo sports cars — Porsche had done some work for the Italians — and the "Berlin-Rome-Berlin" race car, developed by Porsche himself, gave birth to Piech's interest in cars. After his teachers in Salzburg told his mother he was "too stupid" to attend school there, Piech, who was open about his dyslexia, was sent to a boarding school in Switzerland. He subsequently moved on to Porsche, where he fixed issues with the 904 race car and did major work on the 911. But his greatest project was the Le Mans-winning 917 race car, developed at breathtaking financial cost. It annihilated the competition, but the family had had enough: Amid growing tension among the four cousins working at Porsche and Piech's uncle Ferry, the family decided to pull every family member, except for Ferry, out of their management positions. Piech started his own consultancy business, where he designed the famous five-cylinder diesel for Mercedes-Benz, but quickly moved on to Audi, first as an engineer and then as CEO, where he set out to transform the dull brand into a technology leader. Piech killed the Wankel engine and hammered out a number of ambitious and sophisticated technologies. Among them: The five-cylinder gasoline engine; Quattro all-wheel drive and Audi's fantastic rally successes; and turbocharging, developed with Fritz Indra, whom Piech recruited from Alpina. The Audi 100/200/5000 became the world's fastest production sedan, thanks to their superior aerodynamics. Piech also launched zinc-coated bodies for longevity — and gave diesel technology a decisive boost with the advent of the fast and ultra-efficient TDI engines. Less known: Piech also decided to put larger gas tanks into cars. Customers loved it. Piech's first-generation Audi V8 was met with derision by competitors; it was too obviously based on the 200/5000.

2016 Lamborghini Aventador LP 750-4 Superveloce First Drive [w/video]

I'm not as fast as Peter Muller. The chief driving instructor for one of the most revered exotic car companies in the world can turn in lap times that would shame my best efforts, all while giving me notes over the radio and steering with one hand. He's quick. And still, I kept catching him, even slowing down for him, on the fast, sweeping Turn 3 at Circuit de Catalunya. On Muller's advice I held a mid-track position just past the halfway point of the corner, then tightening towards a very late apex and flat out acceleration into a short straight section. Muller was leading a $1.5-million pack of Lamborghini Aventador LP 750-4 Superveloce supercars, and driving the standard Aventador himself. Forget that the SV has added nearly 50 horsepower and dropped around 110 pounds versus the 'base' model; those are just numbers. The SV makes a hack like me as quick as Lamborghini's top trainer, for at least one glorious corner. This is a special car. It's hard to describe Lamborghini's 6.5-liter V12 masterpiece without using indulgent language. But it's the reworking of this massive engine that starts to explain my Turn 3 pace. The engine drives an impressive set of output and performance figures: 740 horsepower (the eponymous "750" figure of the model name is a metric horsepower quote), 509 pound-feet of torque, 0 to 62 miles per hour in a scorching 2.8 seconds, and a top speed in excess of 217 mph. Lamborghini president Stephan Winkelmann says the use of naturally aspirated engines is "part of our DNA." That dedication makes for a powerful differentiator in our current turbo-sodden area, and a magical experience in the case of the SV. The added output and "enriched torque curve" have been achieved by way of revised variable valve timing and intake, as well as a new lightweight exhaust system. Power comes on with authority even under a few thousand revs, and rises maniacally as long as you're inclined to keep the accelerator pegged. The V12 spins freely and fast, hammering home the need for a ultra-responsive transmission with each run up to the redline. Of course, the bellow of the car is such that I hardly needed the gear indicator on the digital tach to tell me when to shift. The V12 sounds luscious at low speeds, angry at full throttle, and absolutely murderous approaching the 8,500-rpm cutoff. Unless you're deaf you'll quickly learn when to pull on the shift paddle, while keeping your eyes on the blurring road.